


Shades of New York

by Macx



Category: Real Ghostbusters, Shades of L.A.
Genre: Crossover, Ghosts, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-24
Updated: 2011-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-21 17:35:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael Burton can see Shades from Limbo. Nothing new there. And they kept him busy with their cases. Now he's finally on vacation in New York, free of the pesky Shades. At least he thinks so. When a dead witch asks for his help he tangles with Ghostbuster business and end up with just another infuriating case.<br/>Crossover with the short-lived TV series Shades of L.A.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of New York

**Author's Note:**

> originally written and then published in 555-BUST in 2.1995

Maddie Winter was not a happy woman. Maddie Winter was dead. She was sure that she was dead. Why else would she stand two meters away from her body and watch how it was put into a coroner's car? Some spectators stood just outside the police line, trying to get a good look. Okay, the body of a 60-year old woman who had apparently died of heart failure wasn't as spectacular as some dead drug-dealers, but some people still craned their necks. Maddie sighed and went back to her apartment that was now a closed off, possible 'crime scene'. Police routine. A yellow band blocked off everyone, but not Maddie. She went - literally - through the wall and sat down on her favourite armchair.

Okay, so she was dead. Not an appealing thought, but she could live with it. Maddie chuckled at that. It wasn't her death that concerned her. She was worried about the cause of her death, the way she had died. Her gaze fell on an old book, lying on the table. It was the source of all her troubles. The book lay open on page 428 and alien numbers and signs were painted on the yellowed pages. It was a magical book Maddie had bought at the antiques market from some teenage kids. They hadn't known what they had there. Maddie was relieved at that. Who knows what might have happened if they had? Well, what had happened now was that she was dead.

With a shake of her head she grabbed the book. Now, after everything had happened, it felt like every other magic book. Very heavy and unhandy. But the second she had touched it at the antiques market she had felt the power of it. The raw, untamed power of a magic unknown to her. Incredible power. This power had now disappeared. Maddie didn't know exactly where the energy, the power she had freed, had gone, but she was sure that whatever it was that had been trapped in the magic book, she wouldn't be able to trap it on her own. She needed help.

Maddie Winter was ... had been a White Witch. She knew occultism, spiritism and magic and she was a known member of the local Occult Community. That was the reason why she knew she couldn't possibly go up against the power herself. The power she had freed accidentally. Sighing, she sank back in her chair. What could she do? Ask the Community for help? No. She shook her head. She couldn't burden the Community with her mistakes.  
And even if she could - who could she ask? She didn't believe anyone could see her in her present state. Maybe Emilio could. He was a strong medium. Or Thereza. Again she shook her head. Emilio was too old for that kind of battle and Thereza was out of town, visiting an old friend by the name of Diana Tregarde in New Haven. She needed someone else.

After some time Maddie felt something tugging at her body. It was as if something wanted to lead her somewhere. With a frown she looked round. She knew what it was that tugged at her but she had no intention of going. None at all. First she had to find someone! But the tugging got stronger. Maddie used her magic and raised some shields. The tugging disappeared.

"Let that be a lesson!! You can't treat a White Witch like that!" she mumbled angrily. How dare they ....?!

Something seemed to knock on her shields.

"What?" she asked unkindly and listened. "I'm not ready yet!" she snapped, irritated. "Yes, I do mind! And no, it doesn't interest me one little bit! Your waiting list can get stuffed!" With that she slammed shut the proverbial 'door' on her interlocutor and left the apartment. Someone knocked again. She ignored the knocking until it got more and more insistent.

"What's it now?" For a 60-year-old Maddie had a ready temper. Right now she was ready to blow. She listened. Then she nodded, appeased. "Okay, that's a deal."

Her interlocutor pulled back and she lowered her shields a bit. After some more hesitation she lowered them completely. It was a deal and They kept their part of it. Now she only had to find her helper.

 

* * *

 

Detective Michael Burton was a really happy man. Two weeks of vacation! He rolled the word around in his mouth. Va-ca-tion. Two whole weeks! No unfinished cases. No homicide, no burglary, no nothing. And the best: no Shades from Limbo! Just vacation. The dark-haired detective stretched and fell back on his hotel bed. For a long time this was his first, real vacation, a time to relax from work. Thinking back he couldn't remember having some time on his own since his nearly fatal accident at a shoot-out. He had been shot in the head and had fallen into a coma. That he had survived at all was the first miracle. That he had woken up without any permanent damage to his brain had been the second one. He had gone back to work after his recovery. Then the shady part of his accident had shown itself - literally. Suddenly he could see the Shades of deceased or murdered persons who needed his help on some unfinished business! Without someone to help them finish their business in this world, they couldn't move on to the next. And Michael was the chosen one. Sometimes there was a correspondence between his current case and the unfinished business of the Shade, but only sometimes. More often than not he had two cases to work on.

Michael sighed. Not only did the constant appearance of Shades mess up his professional life, but his private life as well! But for the next two weeks he had no intention of letting some deceased person mess up his holidays!

"Michael Burton?"

Michael sat up abruptly, looking around in panic and ill foreboding. In the middle of his hotel room stood a grey-haired woman in her late fifties, dressed in jeans, a blouse and dark shoes.

"You are Michael Burton, aren't you?" she asked and her dark eyes looked at him.

"Uuuhhh." Michael closed his eyes and shook his head wearily.

"You are not Michael Burton?" Disappointment rang in her voice. "Damned information service! Was that a joke, or what?!"

Surprised by the sudden anger in the woman's voice Michael opened his eyes again. The woman was looking at the ceiling as if she was talking to someone up there.

"What?" she asked. She listened and then turned back to Michael, who was staring at her, dumbfound. "You are Michael Burton."

"Lemme guess," he mumbled. "You are a Shade and you need my help because of some unfinished business."

"I see you have been informed," the woman said with a satisfied smile.

"No," the detective returned angrily. "Nobody informed me. I'm never informed! What do you want?!"

The grey-haired woman studied him. "You are enraged and overworked. You need a vacation, my friend."

"This is my vacation," Michael hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh." The woman scrutinized him. "I still need your help."

"Why? Have you been murdered? Did someone hide your testament? Did you cat get into the wrong hands?" Michael was by god in no mood for another Shade case. He was in the mood for a vacation, nothing else.

"My name is Maddie Winter." The woman sat down on a chair. "I neither have a problem with my cat, nor with my testament. I don't have either of two. The only thing I have a problem with is that I died through a terrible accident." She held up one hand to stop Michael from interrupting her. "No, I didn't have a car accident or something like that. I was a witch. A White Witch to be exact. And I was killed by a ghost I accidentally released from a magic book I opened."

Michael's eyes grew larger. Magic? Witch? Ghosts?

"The ghost which killed me is still free. You have to help me banish him."

"Uhm, assuming for a second that I really believe what you just told me ...... how could I possibly banish a ghost?"

"First, young man, I don't lie. What I just told you is the truth. And secondly, you have to do what I tell you to. The ghost has to go back into the book and I think I know just the way. But because I am a spirit I can't banish other spirits or related creatures with my magic. That's why I need the help of a living human being."

"And that's me." Michael stood up and looked at her. "Okay, I'll help you. I won't get rid of you otherwise. Where do we start?"

 

* * *

 

Harold Blackburns was a very unhappy man. He eyed the four men in front of him suspiciously. They were all clad in different colored jumpsuits and wearing strange looking devices on their backs. The tallest of them stepped up to him and introduced himself as Dr. Egon Spengler. He wanted to know what exactly had happened here.

"Well, uhm, it started two or three weeks ago," Blackburns started. "I tried to rent the empty apartment on the ground level after the former owner had died, but the new tenant left the apartment after four days. In a hurry, I have to add. He told me about strange things happening, like mysterious noises and moving things. He babbled something about the mixer attacking him, too. I didn't believe him and rented the room to another man. He fled the apartment the same night he moved in. So I decided to take a look at it myself." Blackburns shrugged. "There was nothing unusual when I inspected the room. But I heard stories from the neighbors and the other tenants in the house and so I decided to play it safe and call you." He shrugged again.

"Okay," Dr. Spengler said. "We'll take a look at the apartment with our equipment. Please stay here."

Blackburns nodded and stepped aside to let the four men pass.

 

"Oh, boy!" Ray Stantz called enthusiastically as he walked through the empty apartment, taking a look. The apartment had been rented with the furniture and some was really, really old. "Oh, boy! That's great!"

Peter Venkman seemed less enthused by the sight. He had cancelled a date because of this bust and you couldn't expect him to go around enjoying himself, could you? He glanced at Egon. "Anything?"

Egon looked up from his P.K.E. meter. "There are some residual energies, but nothing that corresponds with the phenomenona Mr. Blackburns described."

Winston Zeddemore came out of the small kitchen and shook his head. "Nothing here either."

"We should take a look at the other apartments. Just in case," Egon said and the four men separated.

There were only three other apartments so they made rapid progress. But just like in the empty apartment they found only residual energy readings. After about one hour they met again.

"Nothing," Ray said, sounding a bit disappointed. "But I heard some interesting things from Mrs. Thierolf on the second floor. She said that this apartment belonged to Maddie Winter. Mrs. Winter was a witch."

"Witch?" Winston echoed.

"She was a member of the Occult Community and had connections to other Communities as well," Ray continued. "She died about two months ago of natural causes."

"Maybe she came back and now haunts her apartment," Peter guessed. He was leaning against a cupboard.

"Is it a class four?" Ray wanted to know, looking at Egon.

The blond man shook his head. "For a class four the residual energy is much too strong. A class four would be nearly undetectable after the time period Mr. Blackburns mentioned."

"Oh great!" Peter muttered. "A stronger ghost."

"Possible."

"What now? We haven't found a ghost and we also don't know what kind of ghost it is."

"First we have to get some background information concerning the house and then we need information about Maddie Winter. If she really was a witch she might be connected to the ghost or vice-versa. And we need to know what she died of."

With the next steps clear at hand the four Ghostbusters left the apartment building. Only a few minutes later a young, dark-haired man entered and walked straight towards Maddie Winter's apartment.

 

*

 

Michael Burton entered the house Maddie Winter had lived in until a short time ago. Her Shade was following him. She didn't use any doors, just passed through the walls. That was the way she entered her former apartment and opened the door for him from the inside.

"How can you do that?" Michael asked, surprised, as she opened the door.

"A little bit of concentration and some talent. That's all." Maddie shrugged.

Michael stepped into the room and started to look round. Everything but the furniture had disappeared. The fridge was still there, too, as was a small oven in the living room.

"Where do you think they put your belongings?" he asked.

"Either to my friends or the welfare center."

Michael lifted both eyebrows. "The welfare center? Don't you have any relatives?"

"No. My parents are both dead and I haven't heard of any other relatives for a very long time." She smiled humorlessly. "Or what would you think of a cousin who claims to be a witch?"

Michael returned the humorless smile. _What would you think of a cop who claims to see the Shades of dead people?_ His only living relative was uncle Louis and he already thought his nephew was slightly out of his mind - without knowing about the Shades. "I understand. Then we should concentrate on finding your belongings."

"The most important thing is the book. That's where the ghost came from and that's where he goes back again!"

"Isn't it a bit dangerous banishing it back into the book? I mean, you opened it and it came out. What happens it someone opens it again after we have banished it? It might be freed again."

Maddie looked at him for a long time. "Maybe," she then said evasively.

"Oh, swell!" Michael took another look round but couldn't see anything interesting. "Let's start with questioning the neighbours. They might know who got your stuff."

After a few questions Michael had his answer. Maddie's personal stuff had been given to the Occult Community. As an address Michael was given the name Emilio Sanchez.

 

* * *

 

Egon had spent the last few hours hunched over the readings he had taken in Maddie Winter's apartment. The readings clearly said the ghost had been away for a long, long time, but the energy of the ghost had a strange consistency which might prove very interesting indeed -- if he could just find out what kind of ghost it was! The only thing he was sure of was the fact that it wasn't a class three - or four or five ..... It was something that could not be classified. If it had been a class four, the ghost might have been Maddie Winter once. But those 'might have beens' were a definite 'it isn't and never was'. But what was it then?

Ray came up the stairs and entered Egon's lab. He had been talking to members of the Occult Community for most of the day, asking questions about Maddie Winter. What he had found out was very interesting, even for him, an occultist. Now he just wanted to fetch Egon to get him down to the others.

Both men went down where they were already expected by Peter and Winston. Winston had spent his time in the library, copying everything he could find on the building. It was mostly construction plans and short reports about the construction or renovation of the building.

Peter's part on the information gathering had been to find out what exactly had been Maddie Winter's cause of death. He had gone down to the police station to do that. Normally it was more than impossible to get such information from the police when you were a civilian, but Peter had a way ....... The way's name was Harriet John, an old friend of his. Harriet had finally given him the information he wanted after he had pleaded and begged for half an hour. The file she gave him didn't say much. Maddie Winter had died of a coronary attack. Natural cause of death. Event he autopsy had shown nothing unusual except that the old lady had been fit as a fiddle. That's what Peter told the others now.

"I have heard the same thing about her from her friends." Ray thoughtfully chewed his lower lip. "Maddie Winter was very agile and healthy for her age. She was an active member of the Community and had a lot of friends here and in the other communities. Everybody knew her. One of her friends told me she bought a book at the local antiques market before she died. She behaved very strangely, very secretive where the book was concerned. She mentioned that she thought it might be an old and powerful magic book. I couldn't find anything else."

Egon turned to Winston. "The same on my side, guys. The building's about 150 years old and has been renovated twice. The last time about 20 years ago. There were never any ghostly apparitions or related things happening in the house or the vicinity. Right now the building is owned by a private corporation. I copied the construction plans, but they show nothing unusual."

"Meaning, we have as much as we had before," Peter concluded, leaning back.

"Not exactly," Egon contradicted. "The book Ray mentioned might be of interest. If it really is a magical book it might be connected to the ghost."

"Did you find anything about the ghost?" Ray wanted to know.

Egon shoved his glasses up his nose. "The readings I took don't correspond with any ghost we ever caught. I looked up the reading I had with 'Tobin's' but nothing there either. They are just too faint. I need more background information."

"Uh-huh," Winston said. "Meaning?"

"The ghost attacked only the tenants of one apartment. It may be his territory. I spoke with Mr. Blackburns again. The tenants were really the only ones to actually see the ghost. The workers he had in the house only days after the first attack said everything was perfectly normal. I did some calculations. The readings I took were about a week old. The last tenant left the apartment at the same time." Egon looked at his three colleagues.

"You mean the ghost only shows itself to the tenants," Winston concluded.

"Yes."

"No problem!" Ray said with an enthusiastic undertone.

Egon shook his head almost immediately. "Ray, I need your help with other things."

The occultist seemed disappointed. "With what?"

"The book you mentioned must have gone to someone after Maddie Winter's death. I need to know who got it. You are known to the Occult Community. You should have lesser problems getting that information than anyone else."

Ray looked like he wanted to protest, but then nodded. "Okay, Egon."

Winston looked at Peter. "Notice something, m'man?"

Peter nodded sourly. "We're gonna move."

Egon smiled. "I thought more of me."

"No chance!" Peter said immediately. "You're not gonna spent one night in that apartment alone."

"Right!" Winston backed up the psychologist.

Egon looked from one to another. There was a very determined look on Peter's face and Winston didn't look like he was about to let Egon leave on his own, too.

"I understand," he said slowly. "We should call Mr. Blackburns to tell him what we want to do."

Peter stood up. "No problem."

Winston stood up, too. "I'll go and pack our things."

"Okay, I'll do the same," Ray said. "I'll call or drive by when I find something."

Egon nodded, mentally going through the list of things they'd need.

 

* * *

 

Mr. Blackburns watched the three Ghostbusters carry their equipment into the apartment. "Is all of that really necessary, gentlemen?"

Peter smiled amiably at the older man. "Just to be on the safe side, Mr. Blackburns. It's very possible you get rid of your non-paying tenant tonight."

Blackburns looked at the proton packs leaning in one corner of the apartment. "You won't damage anything, will you?"

Peter looked at the other man, a shocked expression on his face. He laid an arm around Blackburn's shoulders and pulled him away from the throwers, thereby explaining to him that the Ghostbusters never damaged any property if they could help it. And they always tried to reduce damage to a minimum.

Winston followed the two with his eyes and smiled. Peter had a way of convincing people. It wasn't the first time he had to calm their employers, who were not quite ready to believe that their houses would still look the same after the Ghostbusters had trapped a ghost there.

Egon brought in the last pieces of their stuff and discovered Peter and Mr. Blackburns. Blackburns seemed to be more relaxed now - and following Peter's gestures and the look on his face he had just won a new believer. When Blackburns said good-bye a few minutes later there was a even more relaxed aura around him.

"What did you tell him, Peter?"

"That we have good references where house renovations with proton streams are concerned," the dark-haired man explained with a broad grin.

Winston chuckled. "That's a way to put it. How long do you think it takes for the ghost to notice?" He turned to Egon.

"Following the former tenants the time of arrival after they had moved in ranges from days to only a few hours. We should be prepared to spent some days here, but it could also be tonight."

Peter fell down on the couch. "Okay, who brought along the TV?" When no-one answered he raised both eyebrows. "Nobody? Boy, that will be one hard time!"

 

*

 

It was one hard time for Michael Burton, too. The Occult Community was not only close mouthed, it was barricaded! It had been hours until he found Emilio Sanchez who had moved to a new apartment since Maddie's death. Maddie had not left his side for one tiny second, but she had not been able to help much. She could only give him information, not convince those hard-heads he was talking with that he was a friend, not the enemy.

"You are an outsider, Michael," she explained. "Even the knowledge you gain from me doesn't change that fact."

"Swell!" He gave her a curious look. "Don't you have to go back to Limbo to recharge?" All the Shades he had encountered since his nearly fatal accident had to do that from time to time, giving him some badly needed privacy for a short time.

Maddie laughed softly. "You want to get rid of me?"

"Oh my, no!" Michael muttered. "Whatever gave you that idea?!"

"But to answer your question: no, I don't have to 'recharge'. I don't need that kind of thing. I made a special contract with Them."

Michael muttered something. It was close to 8 p.m. now and all he wanted to do was take a long, good look at his hotel bed and then jump into the same one. But instead of that he was finally sitting in front of the man he had been searching for. Emilio Sanchez was a small, fragile looking man in his late seventies. He was wearing thick glasses he couldn't possibly see something with and he was peering owlishly over the rims at the detective.

"You are a police officer then," he said with a hoarse, wobbly voice.

"Yes, I'm a detective. But I'm not here as a police officer but a friend. I was looking for Maddie Winter when I heard she died a few weeks ago."

"Yes, Maddie was a good woman. Very sorry," the man muttered as if to himself.

Maddie laughed softly which only Michael could hear.

"They said that all personal belongings went over to you and I need something from it."

"Yes, yes. Maddie was a good girl. Good friend, too. Very sorry."

Maddie tried to surpress her laughter and Michael looked at her, irritated.

"What I want to say is: do you still have her things?"

"Yes, yes," the old man said again.

"Michael, this way you won't get anything from him. Emilio can play this role for the next decade if he wants to."

Michael ignored her. "I'm looking for a book Maddie bought shortly before her death at the antiques market. She said it was very old. I just wanted to have a look at it."

"Yes, yes. Maddie bought so many things. Never could resist it." Sanchez shook his head. "Now she is dead."

"Do you have the book?," Michael asked, unnerved.

Dark eyes blinked at him over the rim of the glasses and Michael felt himself squirm under the suddenly icy cold and intense gaze. He shuddered.

"Stop lying to me, detective," Sanchez said and his voice held an edge of steel.

"Wha ..... what?!"

"You don't know Maddie and never have. All you want is the book."

Michael inhaled deeply. "I know Maddie, Mr. Sanchez. I met her only recently."

"She never mentioned you."

Michael shrugged. "What about the book."

"I don't have it." Sanchez leaned back into his overstuffed chair and folded his arms over his stomach.

Maddie sighed. "Emilio, where is it?" she asked gently.

Michael repeated the question only he had heard. Sanchez didn't answer.

"Go," he simply said.

"Listen, it's very important that I know it!"

"GO!"

Michael looked helplessly at Maddie. She just shook her head. If Emilio didn't want to talk it was no use trying to make him talk.

"Thank you for your help, Mr. Sanchez," Michael said through clenched teeth and stood up.

Maddie shook her head. "Emilio, you old hard-head ....."

Michael opened the door to leave the apartment when Sanchez spoke again. "When did you meet Maddie, detective?"

"This morning. In my hotel room," Michael answered without really thinking what he said. He stepped into the hallway. Sanchez's voice held him back.

"Please come back, detective. I think we should start this conversation anew."

 

* * *

 

Peter and Egon were alone. It was dark outside and Peter's watch told him it was shortly past eight. Winston had gone out to get some pizza. Ray had called a few minutes ago to report on his progress. He had a lead on the book. Peter, who had taken the call, had told his younger colleague that nothing exceptional had happened at the apartment. And that was the truth. Egon and Peter had spent most of the time watching the P.K.E. meters and leafing through the copies Winston had brought. Peter found most of it more than boring and late in the afternoon Winston had volunteered to bring a TV from Headquarters. Since then Peter had felt much happier as he watched some shows. Egon wasn't the perfect partner for 'stake outs' because he spent most of the time hunched over his gizmos.

Right now Peter sat in front of the TV, watching a talk show which wasn't overly interesting, but better than nothing at all. Suddenly the picture jumped. Peter's attention returned to the TV screen. The picture jumped again and then turned black-and-white. With a sigh Peter got up. That's all he needed now! A TV that wanted to break down on him. He had taken just a few steps towards the set when the antennas started to vibrate. Peter stopped and frowned. The antennas started to glow and rotate.

"Uh, Egon .....?" He backed away and his eyes searched for the proton packs. They stood in the other corner of the room, close to the sleeping room where Egon was working.

The antennas stopped rotating, aiming directly at Peter. The glowing continued.

"Egon!"

The physicist appeared in the doorway to the adjoining room, a P.K.E. meter in one hand. "Peter, I'm getting some weird readings ........," he began, looking at the small screen.

"I have some weird readings here, too!" Peter hissed and Egon looked up.

What he saw made him grab one of the proton packs. Peter stood frozen in front of the TV set. Both antennas of the set were aimed at him, like two little spears. Egon switched on his proton pack and the accelerator came to life with a soft hum. Egon noticed the antennas turning towards his position. The screen showed only a snowy white picture. Suddenly the whole TV started to glow in a soft, orange light.

"Egon?" Peter asked, lifting both eyebrows.

Egon consulted the P.K.E. meter again. Then he shook his head. "It's not the ghost. Well, it's not exactly the ghost. Just a part of it, if my readings are correct. It's not directly in the TV."

"You wanna tell me our TV is threatening us just like that?!" the psychologist asked sarcastically.

Egon frowned. That was the moment someone knocked at the door.

"Hey, guys! Pizza-time!"

Everything happened at once. The TV gave a strange sound and imploded. Peter jumped back and tripped over something. It was the small oven. Egon heard an outraged yell, followed by a pain filled cry.  
He lifted his thrower and shot a glance at Peter. His colleague sat on the floor, clutching his left leg. The material of jumpsuit was smoking suspiciously and  
then Egon saw the brightly glowing oven. Peter's face was a mask of pain and outrage.

Winston decided to force his way into the apartment right at this moment. He saw Egon with a proton pack in one corner of the room and Peter lying only a few feet away from him, clutching his leg, his face white. Suddenly something oozed out of the broken down TV and the oven. They hovered at the ceiling, flowing into each other, forming a greyish mass. Winston let go of the pizza he was still holding and jumped for his pack. Egon aimed at the greyish mass and fired. From one moment to the next the mass disappeared into thin air.

"Egon?" Winston asked as he scanned the room for another attacker.

The blond man looked at the P.K.E. meter. "Nothing. It's gone."

Winston went over to Peter who was still sitting on the floor. "What happened to you, m'man?"  
Peter looked much paler than usual and his lips were a thin line. Winston knelt down beside him and pried Peter's fingers away from the scorched leg. "What did you do, Pete?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It had it in for me!" the psychologist said in outrage. His green eyes shone with anger.

"You look like you kissed a barbecue."

Peter's left leg was reddened, but Winston was sure it wasn't more than a first degree burn. A very painful burn. He helped Peter onto one of the chairs and then got the first aid kit.

"How does it look?" Egon asked and came over. His blue eyes betrayed mild worry.

"Nothing serious," Winston told him as he treated the burn with cream.

"Nothing serious?" Peter echoed in disbelief. "It hurts!"

"Sure it does, homeboy, but this doctor says you'll have an excellent chance to survive the next 24 hours."

Peter grimaced as Winston bandaged the burn to keep it clean. He turned to Egon. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure. I have to evaluate the readings first." The physicist didn't look up from the display he was studying.

"Does that mean we can go home now?" Peter wasn't thrilled by the thought of camping here. There was only one bed and one couch. Chances were that he would spent the night on the floor. He always pulled the shorter straw when it came to it.

"No, we will stay. It might come back."

Peter gave his colleague a sour look. "Sure. It hasn't barbecued my other leg yet." With Winston's help he stood up, and limped over to the bathroom.

Winston looked after him with an amused glint in his dark eyes. When the bath room door closed he turned to Egon. "Do you have any idea what it might have been?"

"I have a theory, but I want to wait for Ray and what he can tell us. And there are some things I need to look up in 'Tobin's'." With that Egon disappeared into the bedroom.

Winston shrugged and started to pick up the discarded pizza boxes.

 

*

 

Ray arrived at the same evening and Winston, Peter and Egon listened to what he had found out about the book. It wasn't much. The book had been sold by some teenagers at the antiques market. They didn't know what they had sold there. The Occult Community didn't reveal much, just that Emilio  
Sanchez now owned Maddie Winter's stuff. And Sanchez, whom Ray had visited, didn't talk. If he really had the book he wouldn't talk about it.

"Did anything happen?" the occultist asked the other men after he had finished.

Peter snorted and rubbed his leg. Egon told Ray what had happened. "I checked 'Tobin's'. If I'm right the ghost is of an yet undefined class," he finished his narration.

"Undefined? Why?" Ray had never heard about that.

"'Tobin's' describes this kind as some kind of blood ghost. They no longer exist because they have been banished by witches and wizards hundreds of years ago," Egon explained. "None has ever been seen or heard of since the last banishing. The blood ghosts were usually banished into magical objects."

"Like books."

"Yes, like books. I think Maddie Winter opened the book and thereby released the ghost."

"And it killed her," Ray concluded.

"That's my guess. The ghost killed the only one able to banish it again. She didn't die of a heart attack. She was a perfectly healthy woman."

"That's what it thinks!" Peter snarled. "If I get it in front of my thrower it's toast!"

"We'd have to find it first," Ray said. "We could tune the P.K.E. meters on its frequency. It would be the smallest of our problems."

"It isn't enough. We need the book."

Everyone looked at Egon.

"The book? Why?"

"I don't think we can trap the ghost with the proton streams."

"What?!" Peter croaked. "You're kidding, Egon, aren't you?"

"I am not kidding, Peter," the physicist returned seriously. "The ghost was hit by our proton streams and I was able to take readings. They didn't affect it in any way. It was simply ... annoyed."

"But it fled!"

"Yes, it fled. I think it was simply surprised at the attack. That's why it chose to go away. Next time, I'm not so sure it will back off."

"It's getting better and better," Peter muttered.

"Blood ghosts are easily frightened by changing odds, but they are still very dangerous," Egon told them. "I guess it's still somewhere out there."

"Then we'll go and look for it!" Ray called happily. "What are we waiting for?"

"We need the book."

"Which means we have to separate," Peter concluded. "And because I'm not thrilled by the thought of meeting our charming blood friend again I'll graciously leave that part to you guys." He looked at Winston and Egon. "Ray and I are gonna pay the Occult Community another visit."

Egon nodded. "And we can't lose any more time. We have to go now."

"Egon! It's close to ten!" Peter protested who had no intention of running around the streets of New York in the middle of the night. The others ignored his protests - as usual.

 

* * *

 

Michael Burton didn't know what to make of Emilio Sanchez. He had told the old man everything, starting from the day he was injured, through the first visits of Shades to Maddie Winter's appearance - and the man showed no reaction at all! Michael could have talked to a stone for all of it! The only way the detective was able to tell that the man was listening to him and was also very interested in what he was told, were his eyes.

"Maddie is here now." It wasn't a question, but Michael nodded nevertheless.

"We need your help, Mr. Sanchez. We need the book."

Sanchez looked around the room and his eyes locked onto one particular spot. Michael followed his eyes and discovered that Sanchez was looking directly at Maddie. Well, he couldn't see her, but he was still looking at where she was standing. Maddie herself stared back at Sanchez and her eyes held a strange look.

"Maddie!" Sanchez called out, astonished.

Michael stared at the witch in disbelief. "You wanna tell me you could have shown yourself before?!"

"Don't be a fool, Michael," Maddie chided. "You are the only one who can see, hear or touch me. Emilio simply is a very talented medium and he can feel my aura if I project hard enough. And when he is receptive as he is now."

"Aha."

Sanchez turned back to the detective and Burton felt that now, finally, he trusted him. Or was beginning to. "The book is in there." He pointed at a large, wooden trunk. Michael got up and opened it. The book was there.

"That's it!" Maddie called out and came over to him. Ghostly fingers touched the marred leather surface and Michael thought he could feel the book vibrate in his hands. "That's really it!" she whispered. "We finally have it. Thank you, Emilio."

Michael relayed the words of thanks and Emilio gave him a smile. "Be careful, detective. Watch out over it. If Maddie is right you are in great danger."

"Because of the ghost?"

Sanchez nodded. "If this ghost finds out that Maddie is still in this world, he will stop at nothing to kill her."

"Your worry honors me, Emilio," Maddie said gently. "But we'll manage. He won't overrun me a second time."

"I think we should go now." Michael glanced at his watch. It was way past his bedtime. This was his first day in New York, with a major jet-lag, and all he wanted to do was get a good night's sleep!

Suddenly someone knocked at the door. All three jumped. Sanchez got up, slowly.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Mr. Sanchez?" a young, male voice asked. "It's Ray Stantz, remember me?"

Sanchez remembered. "The boy was here this afternoon. He wanted to know about the book," he explained to Maddie and Michael.

"Ray? Ray Stantz?" Maddie frowned. "I know that name, but I don't know where from."

All of a sudden Michael heard a swooshing sound. It sounded like a distant waterfall, coming closer. He frowned, trying to make out where the sound was coming from. Then the glass cupboard started to vibrate. Maddie and Sanchez listened, too. Maddie's face lost all color.

"Lord and Lady!" she whispered. "It's coming!"

"What?!" Michael wanted to know. "Who?!"

In front of the door he heard some commotion and then the lock snapped. The door swung open and revealed two men in jumpsuits, one holding something that reminded Michael suspiciously of a lockpick. The other man, an auburn haired guy in a light brown jumpsuit, held a strange device in one hand, apparently sweeping the room. A strong wind blew through the room, ruffling Michael's hair.

"It's it!" the auburn-haired cried. "It's the same frequency, Peter! But I have some interferences!"

And then it materialized. A grey, flowing mass oozed out of the ceiling, forming a cloudlike thing. For a second the mass seemed to stop, trying to orient itself, then it dove towards Michael Burton. The detective gave a low 'oh, shit!' and stepped back.

"It's after me!" Maddie cried. She was standing close to Michael, never letting the grey mass out of her sight.

From somewhere loud footsteps could be heard. Suddenly bright flashes zapped through the room, connecting with the mass of grey, pushing it away from Michael and Maddie.

"Yahoo!" a male voice cried.

Michael looked around and through the chaos surrounding him he could distinguish four men in jumpsuits firing something like laser weapons at the cloud. Four men? Hadn't there just been two a few minutes ago?! A noise like the explosion of a cork from a bottle got his attention back to the ghost - which had disappeared.

"It's gone!" one of the four men called somewhat disappointed. He looked at the small device in his hand. "Guys, I'm getting readings of a class four!"

"Where?" the only black in the team asked, looking round.

The auburn-haired man stepped into the room, apparently scanning for something. When he turned to Michael - and Maddie - he pointed into their direction. "It's coming from there. A very strong reading of a class four."

"Uhm, may I ask what's going on here?" Michael asked, trying to hide his confusion.

"Please step aside, sir," the auburn-haired man said, lifting the strange rod in his hand.

"I won't step anywhere unless you tell me what you're doing here! Who the hell are you anyway?!"

"We are the Ghostbusters," the blond of the four said as if this was a well-known fact.

"Yes!" Maddie called out. "Yes! The Ghostbusters! That's why I know the name Ray Stantz! He's one of them and he's an occultist! Thereza knows him very well!"

"What?" Michael asked the Shade.

"Ghostbusters," the blond repeated, sounding a bit irritated. "And you are ...?"

"Detective Michael Burton, L.A. police."

"Police?" the dark-haired man who had held the lockpick echoed. "L.A.?!"

That was the moment Maddie intervened. "Michael, I think we should start anew."

"What?!" the detective asked again. This time he, too, sounded irritated.

Ray who was still getting readings from a class four looked at Egon. That man was talking with thin air of which the P.K.E. said that there was a class four!

"Detective?"

"Trust them, Michael." Maddie gave him a smile.

"It's a long story ......"

 

* * *

 

About one hour later -- it was close to midnight now -- four Ghostbusters, one police detective and one Shade sat in the living room of Ghostbuster Central. Michael had told the four men everything and noticed Dr. Spengler scribbling away on his notepad, while Ray Stantz was fully attentive. Winston Zeddemore was a silent listener, too, and Peter Venkman seemed convinced that Michael was a freaked out, overworked police officer.

"That means you are the only one who can see and hear Maddie Winter's ...uhm .... Shade," the occultist Ray Stantz just said. "And Mrs. Winter asked you for help to banish the ghost."

"That's right."

Ray looked at the P.K.E. meter lying in front of him on the table. It still showed the class four. It stood close to Burton.

"Can Mrs. Winter tell us what exactly is going on here?" Egon wanted to know.

Michael looked at his companion, who was sitting on the arm of his armchair. Maddie frowned a bit.

"That's not so easy, but I'll try. First I thought the ghost was a simple one which had been banished into the book a long time ago. But in the meantime I'm convinced that it is more. Much more. I guess it's a blood ghost."

Michael translated and Spengler nodded.

"That's what I think, too. I also guess it is after the book, the only device for its entrapment. And we have the book."

"Uhm, Egon, oh wise one," Peter Venkman said from his place on the couch. "Doesn't that mean we will soon have an uninvited guest in these hospitable quarters?"

Egon frowned. That was something he hadn't thought of. Sure, it was a possibility -- and it was their chance to trap the ghost.

"But I thought we couldn't trap it," Peter remarked dryly.

"But you can hold it until I have banished it back into the book," Maddie said.

The four Ghostbusters looked at Michael, Maddie's voice. He just lifted both eyebrows and, in turn, looked at Maddie. The witch just shrugged.

"Alone I'm not powerful enough to hold the ghost and then banish it. You can hold the ghost, but you can't trap it. I offer you my help as a witch and ask for your help as Ghostbusters."

Egon nodded. "Agreed."

"There's only one minor drawback ....."

"I knew it!" Peter moaned.

"Michael has to be my medium."

"WHAT?!?!" Michael jumped up, looking at Maddie in disbelief. "I have to be your what?! Are you crazy?! I think that's going to far!"

"Michael, in my condition I can throw all the spells I want at the blood ghost without getting any reaction but a hearty laugh out of it! A ghost can't banish another ghost, even if the first one once was a witch! It needs a human medium to do it! All you have to do is what I tell you to. Please ...."

Michael stared at her for a second, then he nodded. "Otherwise I'll never get rid of you."

The four Ghostbusters looked at each other. they had no idea what had just gone on. And none of them asked.

"What now?" Winston asked. "Wait until the ghost arrives?"

"We can't do anything else," Egon said. "The blood ghost needs to find the book - and Maddie. We will wait. I'll prepare a P.K.E. meter to warn us when the ghost enters a 50 meter radius around Headquarters. That should give us the necessary time."

Peter stood up and stretched. "Who else wants some pizza?"

 

* * *

 

Michael stretched out on the couch of the living room and tried to get some sleep. At first he had declined the Ghostbusters' offer to stay overnight, but his tiredness had convinced him otherwise. Winston had brought him some spare pillows and a blanket. Now Michael tossed and turned on the narrow couch. Even though he was tired, sleep eluded him. With a sigh he sat up and tossed away the blanket.

"Can't sleep?"

Michael jumped and then discovered Maddie Winter at his side. He ran his hand through his dark brown hair. "No," he confessed. "I can't." He looked at his watch. It was two in the morning. After Peter had called a 24-hour pizza service and the pizzas had been delivered they had discussed various things over their midnight snack. At one a.m. they had packed off to bed. Spengler had placed the P.K.E. meter he had recalibrated and then they had taken the book to a secure place.

"You are confused, Michael."

Michael laughed softly. "That's a way to put it, Maddie."

"Why? I mean, you are constantly in touch with Shades. Ghosts should be nothing new to you."

"Shades, yes. Ghosts, no." He stood up, walking up and down the room. "Maddie, what I experienced today was not normal. I'm getting used to Shades of dead people popping up and getting on my nerves because they believe their problem can only be solved by me and it has to be done right now. But ghosts like that thing today...." He shuddered. "I have seen a lot since I got shot in the head, but that goes way over it. I accept a lot and I'm trying to accept that, but somehow ....." He sighed, sinking back onto the couch. "I can't accept ghost coming out of books, killing people."

Maddie sat down beside him. "It's a perfectly normal reaction, Michael. It's nothing you should overly worry about. You can't compare yourself to the four Ghostbusters. They are doing this kind of job on a daily basis."

Michael smiled. "They seem crazy enough to do it."

"Don't underestimate them. They are good."

"Do you really think Spengler is right? That the ghost will find us and not the other way round?"

The witch nodded. "He wants the book and he wants me. Nothing can keep him from it."

"May I ask you a question, Maddie?"

"Yes?"

"How come you opened the book and freed the ghost? With you being a witch and all?"

Maddie laughed.  "I forgot the most important rule of all: nothing is what it seems. I knew the book was a magic book. I felt how powerful it was. But I never attributed the power to something inside the book, just to the book itself. I didn't test the book, simply opened it. It's a mistake I paid for."

Michael was silent, unable to think of an appropriate response.

"Are you married, Michael?"

Surprised about the sudden change of topics Michael looked up. "No," he then said.

"Very unfortunate."

"Are ...uhm ... were you married."

Maddie smiled. "Yes, I was. His name was Harry. He was the craziest man I ever knew. Maybe that's the reason why we seemed to be the perfect pair. And why we divorced again."

A shadow passed over her eyes. Michael touched her hand and she smiled a sad smile.

"We were both so made out for each other that on the other side we didn't seem to fit. Everyone went his own way. I had my magic, he had his lust for adventures. The last time I saw him was ten years ago." She inhaled deeply, then briefly squeezed Michael's hand which she was still holding.

Michael let go and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe I should try sleeping again," he murmured and rolled onto he couch. "Good night." Seconds later he was fast asleep.

Maddie looked down on the sleeping detective. "Good night, Michael. And thank you."

 

*

 

Something whining and nervebendingly shrill roused Michael very abruptly and without any previous warnings out of the deepest of sleeps. He lost his balance on the narrow couch and landed hard on the floor.

"What the ....?"

Maddie appeared at his side. She seemed pale and nervous. "It's coming."

"What? Where? Who?" Michael's brain was not yet in working order. "You mean the ghost?"

Maddie nodded. "Come on!"

The detective got up from his position on the floor and pulled on a sweater and jeans. Then he followed the Shade. Outside in the hallway they met Egon and Ray, both looking overly tired. But there was an enthusiastic light in Ray's eyes.

"It's coming!" he cried in feverish anticipation.

Michael shook his head. This was the first thing he had noticed about Ray: his enthusiasm for everything new and thrilling, even if it was dangerous.

"It could have chosen a better time of day," muttered a tired voice which Michael identified as the one of Peter Venkman. The dark-haired Ghostbuster followed his two colleagues.

As they arrived downstairs they met up with the forth member of the team, Winston, who had prepared the proton packs and now gave one to each of them.

Michael stood nervously between the men, looking at Maddie. She gave him a calming smile which couldn't hide her nervousness in return. What they were about to do was very dangerous. None of them alone was able to trap or banish the ghost. This required team work of a special kind. The four men appeared very calm and composed compared to Michael, though Venkman muttered under his breath what he would do to the ghost for waking him in the middle of the night. Michael did what everyone did: he ignored him.

"Are you ready?" he asked Maddie.

She nodded. "Whatever for."

"Ready?" Ray asked cheerfully.

Peter gave a 'hrmph' as he strapped in his proton pack and grabbed his thrower.

The blood ghost chose this moment to appear. There was no warning wind, no vibrations of the furniture. Suddenly it was there, a grey, formless mass of undefined shape which oozed through the ceiling. It growled dangerously, stretching, and Michael had the irrepressible feeling it had grown since the last time.

"Fire!" Peter yelled and four proton streams shot at the ghost. It cried in rage and annoyance, writhing in the streams.

"It's too strong!" Winston gasped. "That thing is just too strong for us!"

The others stared grimly at the grey mass which was now moving towards Michael who was frozen to the spot. The proton streams slowed it down, but they couldn't hold it any longer.

"Michael, listen to me!" Maddie said urgently. "Concentrate on the ghost and repeat these words."

She started to say strange, alien words and Michael repeated them slowly. He felt like he was hypnotized and after a while he was able to speak the words more fluently. The more fluent he got, the farther away the creature seemed to move.

"The book!" Maddie advised. "We need the book!"

Michael translated and from the corner of his eyes saw Ray edging towards the place they had hidden it. He held the thrower in one hand and tried to open the box with the other. As if the ghost had seen it - even though Michael was unable to detect any visible eyes - it cried out and fought against the streams with new strength.

"Lay it on the table!" Maddie ordered and Ray did after Michael had repeated the order.

The ghost hissed and pressed against the streams. Michael repeated the banishing words again, but it was too late. A grey tentacle shot out of the net of streams, aiming for the four Ghostbusters. Ray jumped back with a surprised cry and tripped over a chair. He fell backwards, deactivating his thrower as he fell. The three remaining streams were no problem for the blood ghost.

Michael stared at the mass as it lifted Egon Spengler off his feet as if he was a puppet and flung him against the wall. The physicist stayed down and Michael had no way of telling whether he was alive or dead. Winston kept firing at the ghost which was now rushing at Michael without bothering for him. Maddie, who stood at Michael's side, grabbed his arm in terror. Suddenly Michael's eyes fell on the book which lay discarded on the floor where Ray had dropped it.

A second proton stream hit the ghost and it turned, snarling in annoyance. Peter Venkman was grabbed by a tentacle and lifted off the floor. He yelled in protest and what Michael distinguished as fear as he was thrown through the room, and landed a few meters away from the battle field.

Michael used the ghost's distraction to jump for the book. He grabbed it and held it out like a shield. The ghost hissed again and resumed his dive at his primary target: Maddie Winter. The witch seemed frozen, but decided to flee in the last second. She disappeared - only to reappear at Michael's side.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, unable to hide her fear.

"It's a banishing book, isn't it? It's a trap for the ghost. So I'll get it back in there!" He spoke rapidly, nearly stumbling over the words. There was a hard expression on Michael's face as he held up the book to meet the oncoming ghost. He began the chant of words again, this time speaking them without any mistakes.

The ghost roared. Michael felt the book in his hands starting to vibrate and suddenly it began to glow. The ghost stopped centimeters in front of the ominously glowing book. A proton beam hit it in the rear and drove it forward. A second beam followed. Michael saw Ray and Winston who were firing grimly at the blood ghost. It howled as it felt the pull of the banishing book and tried to wriggle away. Michael didn't stop chanting and the book glowed brighter and brighter. He had to close his eyes. Suddenly something seemed to slam into the book he held in front of him and he fell backwards. He hit his shoulders against something solid and unyielding. Dazed he blinked and gingerly sat up. It was very quiet. Deadly quiet.

"Michael?" Someone touched his arm and he jumped.

"Who?" He felt dizzy.

"It's me. Maddie." He identified the touch on his arm as the hand of the dead witch who now grabbed his arm.

"Maddie?" he stammered and tried to get up. Maddie helped him. "Oh, hi." He stared at the book in his hands as if he saw it for the first time. It had stopped glowing and somehow seemed ... normal.

"Egon!"

The alarmed cry made him turn round hastily. Winston knelt at Egon's side. Peter and Ray were on their way to their unlucky colleague. Winston searched for a pulse and exhaled as he found one. "He's alive. I think he's only unconscious."

Ray tried a smile which didn't go down very well and Michael saw that Peter was nursing his wrist. That was the moment the physicist decided to return to the land of the living. He groaned and blinked twice before he attempted to sit up. The other men helped him.

"Egon!" Ray cried happily. "You are all right!"

Egon blinked, straightening his glasses. "It seems that way, Raymond," he said matter-of-factly.

Michael walked over to the four men. Egon looked a bit dazed but all right. Winston and Ray had some scrapes and bruises, and Peter was a shade paler than usual, holding his right wrist.

"Detective Burton." Winston was the first to acknowledge his presence. "Are you all right?"

"Uhm". _Very intelligent_ , he chided himself, still holding the book clutched to his chest. _Really, Michael. Very intelligent._

"What happened?" Spengler wanted to know.

"The detective banished the ghost into the book," Ray explained with a fascinated voice. "It was great!"

Maddie stepped to the five men, touching Michael's arm. "We have to destroy the book." Her voice was soft, but firm.

Maddie stared at the book, then at the Ghostbusters. "We ... we have to destroy it," he repeated.

Egon's gaze travelled from the detective to the book. With Ray's and Winston's help he got to his feet. "You can't destroy a magical book."

"But .. Maddie says it has to be destroyed."

Ray frowned. "She's right," he muttered. "It's too dangerous to keep it anywhere where others could reach it. We need to store it somewhere."

"Why don't we throw it into the containment unit?," Peter joked.

"The containment unit?," Michael echoed.

"The containment unit! Yes!" Ray beamed. "That's a great idea!"

Egon nodded cautiously as if he was afraid his head would fall off. "The containment unit," he confirmed.

"Just ask me!" Peter grinned. "I'm brilliant, as you might remember!"

"Ehm, what's a containment unit?" Michael asked, bewildered.

"Something ghosts should keep away from," Maddie murmured uneasily.

 

* * *

 

Two days later Michael paid another visit to Ghostbuster Central. He was welcomed by a young, red-haired woman who was hacking away at the keyboard of her computer. As he stepped up to her desk she looked up, peering over the rims of her slightly extravagant glasses.

"How can I help you?"

"My name is Michael Burton. I'm here to see the Ghostbusters."

"Hi, detective!" a jovial voice called from the stairs. Michael saw Peter Venkman bouncing down the last few stairs and walking up to him. "What drives you here? Business or pleasure?"

"Not business. I just wanted to see how you're doing."

"Everything's just perfect. No problems." The psychologist smiled "But to be honest, detective, we are just great. Egon's sporting a nice bump on his head and Ray and Winston have some colorful bruises."

Michael nodded remembering their time at the hospital. Peter had insisted on Egon being examined by a doctor and even though Egon had protested that he felt fine they had gone to the Memorial. The doctors had examined Winston and Ray and after discovering Peter's mistreated wrist they had x-rayed it, too. It wasn't broken, just turned. Now Peter sported an ace bandage that kept him from overusing it.

"Hello!" Ray came down the stairs, greeting the visitor cheerfully. "Nice to see you again! How's Maddie?"

"To be honest: I don't know. She disappeared before we went down to the containment unit." That was the truth. As the five men had gone down to what they referred to as the 'containment unit', Maddie had disappeared. Michael had wondered what a 'containment unit' was, but had found out seconds later. Ray had explained the thing that looked like some oversized washing machine with relative easy words to the stunned man at his side. As they opened the unit and stuck the book inside Michael felt a bit disappointed. He had expected some light-and-magic show, not that. Winston had simply pushed it inside a slot and closed the unit again.

"Maybe she is afraid we would trap her." Peter shrugged.

"You wouldn't .....!?" Michael said, horrified.

"No, no!" Ray was quick to assure him.

Michael relaxed. "I think that now that all is over I'm finally going to get some of my well-earned vacations." He waved towards the two Ghostbusters. "Say hello to your colleagues for me."

"See you again!"

"Don't take it the wrong way," Michael laughed, "but no, thank you."

With that he left the Headquarters of the most unusual business he had ever heard of.

 

* * *

 

Michael Burton packed his bags and closed them. After nearly one and a half weeks of a wonderfully relaxing vacation he was now ready to leave. He had seen no more Shades, had no new cases to solve. Just time to enjoy himself. Peace and quiet. With a satisfied smile he went down to the main hall of the hotel, paid his bill and left for the  
airport.

"Hello, Michael."

Michael turned his head, surprised as he heard a female voice. "Maddie!"

Maddie Winter laughed.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had left for ..... uhm ... well, where-ever-you-go."

"Heaven? Nirwana?"

Michael grinned, embarrassed. "Something like that, yes."

"As you know I have a very special contract with Them up there." Maddie grinned.

"Uh-huh. You mentioned something like this once."

"Well, I extended my contract to an unlimited time and called in some favours from old friends. I was a medium when I was alive, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"And therefore I was able to get you some time off."

Michael raised both eyebrows. He had to confess that he had found it strange that no more Shades had appeared. "Thanks," he stuttered.

"Oh, that was nothing. I just did you a favour like you did one for me, Michael."

"That doesn't explain why you are still here."

"You are right. It doesn't. Well, I prolonged my visiting time."

Michael nearly stepped on the brakes. "You what?!"

"Why not? This shady form of existence has some advantages, Michael."

"Uh-huh," the detective managed. He steered his car into the parking space at the airport reserved for the rental firm he had rented his car from. "And what do you want to do now?," he asked the witch.

There was a tell-tale shine in Maddie Winter's eyes. "Do you need a partner?"

"Uuuuhhh."


End file.
